


Show Me Your Teeth

by Sotakura



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Biting, Blood, Frottage, Galra Keith (Voltron), M/M, Marking, Only a bit though I swear, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Teeth, These boys ... They are such awkward beans, Uh why isn't biting kink a thing the fuc k, biting kink, well he's transforming into Galra Keith aight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-18
Updated: 2017-04-19
Packaged: 2018-10-20 18:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10667985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sotakura/pseuds/Sotakura
Summary: Keith is beginning to change, slowly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **EDIT:** I've fixed a few formatting issues I hadn't noticed when I first posted. I'm writing on an iPad whilst my laptop is broken so apologies!!
> 
> So I wanted to write something really quickly because it's exam time and you know me I'm only inspired to write fic at exam time *long suffering sigh* (it turned out waaaay longer than I intended. But of course.)

The changes, they happened slowly.

They was barely noticeable at first, even to Keith.

It was waking up in the morning, feeling like he could see things a little sharper. But maybe that was just his imagination.

It was sitting down to eat one of Hunk’s newest concoctions of strangely coloured, but surprisingly tasty goo, and feeling like his nose could pick out and smell every single ingredient it contained. But maybe that too was just his imagination.

It was going to train against the castle’s bots and finding that he needed to crank up the difficulty more than usual, for they were too slow, too weak, too easy to destroy. But Keith put that down to his training finally paying off. Finally showing some results.

These slow changes, they caused little concern. _No_ concern in fact. Who was Keith to complain when he felt better than he ever had before? Healthier, stronger, just … _better_ , in every sense.

But then the changes, they became more obvious, physically. And far, _far_ less desirable.

Keith was changing clothes one morning, stripping off his night shirt for his usual black tee, when he caught himself in the mirror that hung on the far wall of his room, just by the door. His stomach and chest had become more defined recently – something he had noted proudly days beforehand, but the thing that caught his eye was the patch of skin on his left side, over the space where he could feel his heart rabbiting against its confines.

The _purple_ patch of skin, to be exact.

He walked closer to the mirror, his hand trembling as he circled the tiny mar upon him. He stared at it, unmoving, for a time and then, when he felt like he could breath again, began to search his whole body for more of this strange coloured taint. He did it with a sense of faux calm too, which he dredged up from some deeper part of his being. He was _not_ about to freak out about this.

So when he found no further purpled evidence upon his person he simply … chose to ignore his newest discovery. Pulled his shirt hastily over his head and nodded to himself that _yes, Keith, it was just a bruise_. There was no need to panic, so _not panicking_ was exactly what he was going to do.

Keith went about his day like it was any other.

But then, it seemed as though the changes in Keith began to hasten, like his body was incensed at being ignored and in retaliation made it so Keith _needed_ to acknowledge what was happening to him.

The very next morning, the patch on his chest had grown from barely matching the size of his fingernail to now outgrowing the size of his entire palm. It spread across his left pectoral, with deep purple spiraling out from the larger mass of colour in thin tendrils. It didn’t hurt, when he pressed the fingertips of his right hand against it, didn’t feel like anything at all other than his own skin that was merely discoloured.

For a sensible person, maybe now would have bean an acceptable time to panic. But Keith, he refused. Jammed his head into his shirt once again and vowed to – not ignore it – but to at least accept that something fucking weird was happening and _maybe_ he should seek some advice.

He spoke to no one that day, and fought the bots until late into the evening.

It was several days later, when the colour purple had begun to shift along his ribcage and followed around his back and towards his spine in flowing vine-like swirls, when a change occurred that would finally become impossible to conceal and, therefore, ignore.

Keith showered early in the morning. Far, far earlier than anyone else, lest he meet anyone who would discover the secret that was engraving itself onto his body. He’d never disliked the shared shower block more than he had in these two weeks.

He was drying off afterwards, quick and efficient, and was just pulling a fresh pair of boxers over his hips when he felt the pain first. The sharp, excruciating pain that lanced through his gums, so suddenly he nearly doubled over. He caught the edge of the row of sinks just in time to save him from collapse. He felt something dribble down his chin and wiped it away with the back of his hand, which came away red, covered in blood. The pain came again, piercing through him so viciously it made his head throb, like his brain was thumping right up against his skull. A rumbled cry of a sound forced its way out of his throat and he clutched onto either side of one of the sinks for dear life.

It took several long, agonising minutes of heaving painfully – watching drop after drop of blood trickle from his opened mouth, splattering against the ceramic before slowly sliding down into the drain – before Keith could move. His mouth felt heavy, soaked with the tang of iron, like his jaws could no longer close properly. He raised his head when he could, desperate and wholly terrified to inspect himself in the mirror above the sink.

For some reason, aided by the strange, hidden acceptance that was feeding Keith his ability to ignore all of the changes that were wracking through his body lately, what he saw in that mirror didn’t really surprise him. It was gruesome, yes, for he looked like a feral animal who had just ravaged his prey, with streaks of blood all around his mouth, staining his lips and skin and dripping off of his teeth.

His very, _very_ sharp teeth.

Two jagged, pointed canines had pushed themselves from his gums, the teeth on either side of these new ones remained the same size, but had sharpened too into dangerous little points. Keith did nothing but stare for a few moments, as though hypnotized by the strange image in front of him. Which was him, but at the same time … not … _him_.

He turned the cold taps on and cupped his hands underneath, raising the water to his face to wash away the mess. He swished some water around inside his mouth too, which hurt like a motherfucker to do, though no longer tasting his blood on his tongue was a sufficient reward for the pain. He leaned closer to the mirror, carefully pulling his upper lip away with his index finger to see his new fanged additions more clearly.

It was then, as he was testing the point of them against his tongue, that the door slammed open, because of course it would. In strolled a whistling Lance, with a towel thrown over one shoulder and a bag clutched in his left hand. He froze just a step inside the doorway, lips still pursed together stupidly, eyes blown comically wide as he stared at Keith. His gaze fell from Keith’s own to his chest, the patch of purple tainted skin, and then up to his mouth where it faltered, his eyelids drooping just a little, before springing wide open again.

Keith straightened his stance, letting his hands fall away from his mouth to rest on the sink’s edge. He awaited Lance’s response, waited for him to do anything other than simply stare at him because Keith couldn’t figure out what the guy was thinking like this and for some inexplicable reason, knowing what Lance thought in this moment seemed vitally important. When he didn’t get even a sound after several tense seconds of gazing at a frozen Lance, Keith cleared his throat.

Lance seemed to nearly jump out of his skin, backing up against the door jamb at the sound, his cheeks flushing a pretty rose colour. “My, what-“ Lance let out a long, heavy breath. One that seemed to shudder out of his lungs. “What big teeth you have.” Keith clenched his fingers against the ceramic under his hands.

This was _Lance_. What did he really expect?

Lance was an idiot.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaahhh I'm so happy with the response to the first chapter! I've never gotten so much feedback within so little time of posting a fic , so thank you everyone!!! :* I hope everyone enjoys this chapter as much as the first and please, keep the comments coming, I'm greedy now lol *winky face*

Lance eventually noticed Keith’s glare, once he tore his eyes away from the fangs protruding from Keith’s mouth, a move that seemed to take great effort. He thought that Keith looked fit to smack his head against the wall, and straightened, shoulders tensing up. The flush from his cheeks was spreading, colouring his ears and the length of his neck. “I mean – I mean like-“ his eyes widened again. “Like you could really – really do some damage with – could really tear someone apart with those-“ Lance swallowed thickly, both of his hands hovering awkwardly in the air near his throat, fingers clenching.

Keith’s stomach dropped. Felt like his insides were completely collapsing within his body at the thought, _he’s scared. He thinks I’m a monster_. It punched through his guts and rendered him silent, save for the tiny sound that escaped his throat that was caught somewhere between a whimper and a growl. Pitiful and small.

He was terrified that this was it, Lance was about to run off, wake everyone in the castle, tell them about Keith, how he was shifting into a Galra. He had proof, look at his skin, at his body, at his teeth. Look at this monster pretending to be human. In the days and weeks that he’d spent ignoring the changes that were happening to him, really he was doing nothing but ignoring the thought of this moment, right here. Of being shunned. Of being cast away by his friends. His _family_.

Keith slipped further into his internal despair, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the tiles and weep because now, _now_ it was the time for him to fucking panic. Lance, however, saw the dip of the other man’s brows, the clench of his jaw, and saw nothing but anger. He wasn’t ready to be at the receiving end of Keith’s fire right now, especially not when he … when he was … “I-” Lance squeaked, and then cleared his throat at the sound he’d produced. “I-“ Keith raised his eyes to him once again and they were piercing. Lance shuddered despite himself. “I have to go.” He said in a rush, and just as swiftly, Lance was out the door and running down the hallway.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Keith couldn’t just let him go, he needed to explain. Talk. Though it may be useless he just needed to. To know himself, that he tried. Keith gathered his clothes and pulled them on, realising now he’d still been standing there in nothing but fresh underwear.

He raced out the door and chased after the blue paladin, whom he found just as he was struggling to open the door to his bedroom. He turned at the sound of Keith’s footsteps down the hallway and squeaked at the sight of him practically barreling towards him. Lance got the door to slide open and he ran inside, attempting to shut it back up after him.

But Keith was far too fast these days. Was able to step into Lance’s bedroom right before the door clicked behind them. And then it was just the two of them. Back in silence. Though it was more stifling now than it had been back in the showers. Lance dropped his things by his bed and had raised his hands up, slowly backing up against the far wall. Keith hated how scared he looked. All because of him. Lance never seemed to a fear a thing. Never seemed to look so fragile and small as he did now. Keith wanted, desperately, for Lance to just … smile, to start laughing like he always did because this. This was killing him.

“Hey, so-“ Lance broke the silence, now firmly pressed against the wall. “It seems like you are – going through some – some things.”

“ _Lance_.” Keith’s voice was croaky when he spoke, and a little slurred from the numbness of his mouth and the size of his new teeth. Lance’s eyes were wide again, back to staring at Keith’s mouth.  
  
“No, like it’s – it’s, I mean it’s-“

“I’ll tell them. Everyone. I will I just, Lance please let me – let me figure out what I’m gonna say I just – “ Keith’s voice shivered and he hated it. “Need some time – just – a little more-“

“Huh?” Lance interrupted Keith, head tilting to the side and his brows furrowing in confusion. “Dude, like I think they’re gonna notice, I don’t have to tell them anything. Not with you and your – well, your-" Lance gestured vaguely towards his teeth.

“You weren’t running off to tell everyone?” Now it was Keith, tilting his head and utterly confused. Lance opened his arms out wide, making a show of looking around.

“Uh, tell who exactly, I did run back to my own room – I mean _walked_! I walked, calmly, back to my room.” Lance made a weird sound that was probably supposed to a chuckle, rubbing a hand through the hair at the back of his head. Keith squinted at him, silently, overwhelmingly delighted that Lance was not in fact about to spread the word of his transformation. But confusion still ran rampant through his mind.

“Why are you acting so weird?”

Lance raised his head, looking more than a little alarmed. But the look quickly shifted, his stance turning defensive within a second. “Why are _you_ acting so weird?”

“I’m metamorphosing into a different species.”

“Okay,” Lance agreed, “you’ve got me there.” He was then looking down at his feet, where his shoes were scuffing up the floor. Keith waited for some kind of explanation, some _enlightenment_ as to Lance’s behaviour which, granted, was probably just Lance being Lance. _Unexplainable_.

“Did it … uh-“ Eventually, Lance did speak again. His head raised slowly and his cheeks, they were burning with colour. “Did it hurt?” He pointed to Keith’s mouth.

“Like a _bitch_. Still hurts.”

“Right. No, yeah. I bet.” Lance nodded along, sounding distracted as he stared unblinking at the teeth in question. He fiddled with his fingers for a few seconds, picking absently at his nails and then he was stepping closer to Keith. Just a little, so the distance between them wasn’t so great. Something twinged in the pit of Keith’s stomach, something that replaced the horrible pain that was seated there earlier. Something warmer.

“Can I … see?” Lance asked, almost shyly. Keith was moving before he could really even process the question, lifting his fingers to his lips and moving them out of the way so his teeth and gums were in full view. Lance took a hiccuping little breath and stepped closer, possibly without even really realising it.

Keith moved to show the other side, gently pressing against the tender flesh above his new fangs. He was shocked, his body tensing up and going rigid, as he felt Lance’s fingertips coming up to touch his lips. Lance was so close now, Keith could practically feel his warm breath against his cheek. Lance looked … enthralled, as he let his fingertip slide over Keith’s lips before finally pushing in to press against the front of one of his fangs. Keith let him explore. _Wanted_ him to.

Lance felt around the gums that had been pierced through, and the pain was still there for Keith as he prodded against it, but it was reduced to a mere stinging now. He then slid his fingertip down until he could feel the sharpened point of it, pressing it experimentally against his skin to test it. Lance brought his other hand up, was cupping Keith’s face between both now and using his thumbs to push his upper lip out of the way so that he could see everything he wanted. His palms were hot on Keith's cheeks, and there was a tremble to them. Tiny, imperceptible if he wasn’t pressed so close.

Lance swallowed thickly, his breath picking up with every second that ticked by and Keith was struck by it. By the realisation that he was wrong about what Lance was thinking, first of all – so very, _very_ wrong – and that secondly-

“You like them,” Keith said, and it came out as more of a whisper than he’d intended. Lance jerked, pulling his gaze up to meet Keith’s eyes and his lips were slightly parted, his chest rising and falling faster than it should have been. It was starting to make sense – well, no, in all honesty it made even less sense than before but - Lance’s reaction, his flush; his shudders; the inability to tear his eyes away from Keith’s threatening protrusions; the sheen of sweat that was visible below his hairline and along the length of his neck. “You’re not – you’re not scared of me, you’re-“

Keith could feel the thrumming of blood in his veins, the drumming in his chest that was just this side of painful. A response to Lance gulping down, his Adam’s apple bobbing, and removing his hands from Keith’s face slowly. The slow seep of cold air that was overtaking the residual warmth on his cheeks was unwelcome, and wasn’t that peculiar?

Keith wanted it back. Wanted Lance’s hands back on his skin, and in his mouth again. Wanted to taste the salt of his sweat on his tongue and savour it. Wanted the sharpness of iron blood if only it was Lance’s and not his own. And _fuck_ , did Lance – _did he always smell this good_?

It was something to do with the Galra part of him, that much Keith could figure. And it _should_ have made him want to just turn right around and march out of that room. Should have made him feel sick, or uncomfortable, or _something_. Something other than wanting to get closer and closer into Lance’s space – which he did, stepped just a little closer, to which Lance stepped just a little further back – and wanting to touch and feel and – _fuck_ , Keith didn’t know. Because this was Lance.

 _Lance_.

Stupid Lance who made shitty jokes, and poked fun at everything, and laughed, and made Keith want to send himself out into space some days without his gear and just let his head explode. Lance who was attractive, and strong, and quietly intuitive, and a better shot than he would ever be. And fuck it was _weird_ , so beyond the realm of weird but Keith wanted him.

Keith was pushing up against Lance before he even registered making the movement. Bracketing his forearms on either side of Lance’s head which thudded against the wall behind him. Keith could feel his heat, feel it radiating off of his body. Could smell him, citrus and salt and water, and it invaded him. Made his skin prickle beneath his clothes.

“Listen – like I can definitely, totally, absolutely explain and if you would just, y’know not punch my face in or – or break any of my limbs that would be ideal,” Lance’s words trembled as they fell from between his lips, each one sending a huff of his warm breath against Keith’s neck. “We have – we’ve all got our things, man, like – right? I don’t – I mean I didn't – _hah_ – just. Teeth!” Lance chuckled awkwardly, his hands curling into the fabric of his tshirt above his stomach. “Like who knew? I mean I didn’t – not until, until y’know I saw-“

“Shhh,” Keith halted Lance’s rambling, his hand coming up to rest upon his cheek and his thumb pressing against the pucker of Lance’s mouth. Lance’s breath hitched and his eyes widened just a little. Widened even more as Keith leaned in to the space above his shoulder, where he buried his nose deep into the soft skin just below Lance’s ear. He spend long moments simply breathing in the scent that he was craving and then Keith let his tongue loll out of his mouth, to sweep across Lance’s neck. He was rewarded with a tiny hiccuping sound that spilled from Lance, and the paladin’s hands coming up to grasp at his arms like he needed something to root him to the ground.

“Keith,” Lance said, and it was a whisper, a question, a plea. It was a trigger. One that had Keith pulling his lips back from his teeth and sinking them into Lance’s shoulder within a second. Had him biting a delicious trail along every inch of skin he could get his mouth on until Lance’s neck, his shoulders, the top of his chest were wholly ravaged. Littered with bite marks and bruises and in places, some drops of blood from where Keith had pierced too deep. Those marks he laved preciously with his tongue.

Lance was reduced to a few stray, broken sounds beneath Keith’s attentions. His hands had found there way to Keith’s back, sneaking beneath the hem of his tee to dig painfully at the skin either side of his spine. And it _burned_. And it was ecstasy.

Keith hitched Lance up in his arms, guided his legs around his waist whilst his hands planted themselves on Lance’s ass to keep him pressed solidly against the wall. The position allowed them to shift tack a little, allowed Lance to grip a hold of Keith’s hair tight in both fists and rut his crotch against Keith’s. He was hard within his boxers, uncomfortably so, but then, they both were. And they were _desperate_ for this – this thing between them that was new, and foreign, and mind blowing.

“Keith,” Lance groaned, as his hips thrusted faster, sought out glorious, delicious friction with every stroke. He pulled on Keith’s hair and forced his mouth away from the bruises he was nursing across Lance’s collarbone. Forced him to raise his head so that he could see Lance’s face, flushed and heated, with his lips open around panting breaths and his eyes glazed over in pure pleasure. “Keith”, Lance said again, but this time it was pressed against Keith’s mouth. Pushed in between his teeth alongside Lance’s exploring tongue and Keith could do nothing but moan his approval and tighten his hold, and hasten the roll of his hips. Faster. _Faster_.

Lance came first, with a startled cry that proved it had punched through him unexpectedly. He pressed his forehead against Keith’s, hands settled on either side of the other man’s neck as he shuddered. It took little more for Keith to follow him, his mouth falling open silently as he felt warmth spreading through his bones, and seeping into every inch of his skin.

Keith lowered Lance to the ground eventually, once they could breathe without it feeling like the air was wracking through their lungs. Keith had to steady him once his feet hit the ground, hands catching him by the waist to hold him upright. Once Lance seemed stable, Keith stepped away, created a little space between them.

He felt unbearably awkward then, and it filled the room like a heavy fog. He didn’t know what to do with hands now that they didn’t have Lance’s body to clutch to. He cleared his throat. Looked around at the ceiling. The floor. Anything but the guy in front of him that bore the shape of his teeth on his throat.

“ So, that was…” Lance, of course, tore through the silence first. Keith chanced a glance at him from the corner of his eye, but he was just as adamantly avoiding his gaze. “I mean it was…”

“Yeah.” Keith nodded.

“Yeah.” Lance nodded too. After a few seconds he swallowed audibly. Tried again. “Unexpected.”

“Unexpected.” Keith nodded again. He would rather be sitting everyone down to explain the fact that he was currently turning Galra, than be having this conversation right now. He heaved a sigh.

“Was … good though.” Lance added, quietly. Keith’s eyes flew towards him and he found Lance looking at him, his hands fumbling behind his back. He felt a twinge of a smile threatening the corner of his lips.

“Yeah, it was.” Lance smiled back, and Keith felt like it was the first time he was ever seeing it. “I should,” Keith cleared his throat again and took another step back. The tension had broken now. “Should go – go shower. Again.”

“Ahh me too.” Lance stepped towards Keith, his smile now accompanied by another blush of colour. "I mean – I didn’t shower before, so I should – should shower for the first time. Like today I mean. The first time today – I’ve showered before, obviously-“

“Lance.”

"We should shower.”

“Yeah.”

“Separately. Showering.” Lance emphasised, his head tilting just a bit as though waiting for a reaction. He bit down on his lower lip and his eyes fell again to Keith’s mouth. He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, but Keith saw the twinge of his face at the bruises and bites Keith had made. “Or together, I mean … whatever.”

“Lance.” He was an idiot. Keith was most definitely an idiot, too. The whole conversation they were currently having, was idiotic. But maybe that was okay. Keith tried not to smile. “Come on.” He opened Lance’s bed room door and slowly backed out of it and Lance followed obediently, as though being pulled forward.

So, the whole shifting Galra thing? A bit of a crisis, yes. Keith will readily admit that. He’d have to live with the purple skin which was not even slightly ideal. And he was not looking forward to having to reveal himself to the others, and face the potential backlash. Or the pity. But hopefully, the eventual acceptance.

But then again, some of the changes … they were very, _very_ desirable.

**Author's Note:**

> *Lance is not an idiot. He is a precious bean. Protect and love him.
> 
> Let me know what you thought! I'm quite happy for this to be my first foray into writing anything for Voltron and there will hopefully be more to come ;)
> 
> I'm writing on an iPad currently which is a little difficult so please let me know of any errors you spy, I'll fix them right up 
> 
> Feel free to check out my Tumblr and talk to meh over at [Sotakura](http://sotakura.tumblr.com/), or if kpop is your thing my kpop blog is here for you at [Cutie-Taekwoonie](http://cutie-taekwoonie.tumblr.com/)!
> 
> Good day! ^-^


End file.
